The real young master thought he was hated by everyone

Hugging the exam papers, Li Heng watched as Xie Duzhi lifted the suitcase onto the car. He still hadn’t quite processed the fact that he was moving in with him.

He felt like he had some issues accepting “change,” as it always took him a while to fully adjust.

Fortunately, the study system was relatively independent and hadn’t been affected too much. He remembered the new methods and better formulas his teacher had introduced quite quickly.

He placed his heavier-than-usual backpack in the back seat and automatically opened the passenger door.

The last time Xie Duzhi drove him was when they went to the hotel to meet their parents and his two older brothers.

Counting carefully, it hadn’t actually been that many days since then, but when he thought about it, it felt like it happened in another century.

It was probably due to a shift in his mindset.

In the car, he reviewed the mistakes highlighted by his teacher and studied, unknowingly slipping into a state of intense focus. He didn’t even notice the occasional glances that Xie Duzhi threw his way.

It wasn’t until they arrived at the villa in Lin Feng Bay that Xie Duzhi parked the car and opened the door for him, that he snapped back to reality. Hmm, his neck felt a bit stiff.

Xie Duzhi was the one who took out the suitcase. Li Heng lagged behind him, unable to catch up, so he quickly put on his backpack to avoid appearing too “idle.”

“Record your fingerprint.”

Xie Duzhi stood at the door, pressing a few buttons on the keypad lock, then slightly turned to remind him, “Use the finger you’re most used to.”

Without thinking, Li Heng extended his right thumb.

Once he ensured the fingerprint was recorded, Xie Duzhi let him in.

The villa was decorated in a minimalist style, with shades of gray, blue, and white dominating the palette, giving it a somewhat lifeless feel.

In this environment, a machine shaped like a “V” beneath the TV in the living room, alongside a classic red and blue controller lying on a stand, stood out starkly.

It was a game console.

He found it hard to believe that something so out of place would exist in Xie Duzhi’s home, almost causing him to rub his eyes in disbelief.

Standing at the entrance, Xie Duzhi only glanced at the living room in response to his gaze and explained, “I had my assistant contact someone to deliver it yesterday.”

He didn’t play games, so it was clear that this was specifically set up for Li Heng.

Li Heng swallowed the words “but I’m not planning to play games for a while” that almost slipped out.

The feeling of being remembered and considered made his heart warm.

He felt a bit shy about speaking up.

“Whenever you have free time, I can play with you.”

Xie Duzhi responded with a faint agreement, which made him recall a game Li Heng had streamed before.

What was it called again? Something like “Mage King”?

“The room is on the left side of the second floor,” he said as he carried the suitcase upstairs, asking if Li Heng was hungry.

“…Didn’t we just have lunch?” Li Heng answered, having been spoiled at the dining table before they left.

“It’s almost three,” Xie Duzhi said, placing the luggage down before going back downstairs. “Mom said you should eat more and drink soup every day.”

“……” But I already had several bowls for lunch!

“Third Brother, I’m really not hungry.” Li Heng took a deep breath. “Uncle Fu asked me to have cookies before getting in the car.”

Xie Duzhi looked a bit disappointed and made a soft “oh” but said nothing further.

He quietly walked into the kitchen, took some fruit from the refrigerator, and made Li Heng a glass of juice.

It was the first time the kitchen’s blender had been used since he moved in.

While juicing, he contemplated hiring a chef.

He could indeed cook, but only basic meals. He hadn’t put much thought into cooking; his daily menu didn’t depend on what he wanted to eat but rather on what ingredients were delivered that day.

It would actually be more convenient to find a private chef nearby. This way, there wouldn’t be any unrelated individuals lingering around for too long.

But a chef would make communication easier. Li Heng could directly tell them what he wanted or provide feedback on flavors.

He brought the juice over to him and sat down, suddenly unsure of what to do next.

The clear rhythm of his actions had suddenly quickened, and from that point on, everything felt chaotic and difficult to grasp.

He wasn’t used to doing things without a plan or a strong purpose.

There was still plenty of time before dinner.

Given the current conditions, he habitually began analyzing what he should do next.

Explaining the problems felt a bit overstepping, but playing games could help strengthen their bond as brothers.

However, that didn’t feel suitable at the moment.

He had a chance of being rejected, and his understanding of this aspect was rather shallow; it was possible that it would backfire.

The only thing left to do seemed to be chatting.

He considered himself not very good at chatting, especially with close people.

This had little to do with having enough conversational material; rather, he often tended to steer discussions toward topics he was good at and could fully control. As a result, every time Mrs. Xie sought him out for a heart-to-heart, it always turned into one serious business discussion after another.

“Do you want to be a star?” he asked, furrowing his brows and pushing down that trivial sense of frustration.

Li Heng, who was sipping his juice in small sips, choked and coughed for a while.

He felt his breathing gradually returning to normal, rubbed his eyes, and wiped away the tears that had come from choking, unable to suppress his confusion.

“…What?” 

He exclaimed, his eyes filled with straightforward bewilderment.

“You were really interested in Bai Ruan yesterday,” Xie Duzhi stated.

Aside from the brief moment he spent calculating the commuting time and route, his attention had been on Li Heng.

Li Heng showed a particular concern for the unfamiliar Bai Ruan, which made him speculate that perhaps he liked the spotlight and acclaim that came with being on stage.

Although the Xie family had never ventured into the entertainment industry, there were trustworthy contacts among their business partners in that field.

So, wanting to be a star was certainly possible; no matter what kind of program or stage, the Xie family could afford to sponsor it.

“I just think he looks pretty… I just looked a few more times,” Li Heng quickly denied, coming up with an excuse. “I don’t want to be a star.”

He indeed thought Bai Ruan was handsome, like a little prince, so it wasn’t a lie.

As for what he planned to do in the future?

Xie Sizhi had asked him that day, and he still hadn’t thought it through.

He knew too little about various industries and had too little exposure to know where to place his interests, so he didn’t dare to decide too easily.

Despite Xie Sizhi reassuring him to try boldly without fear of wasting his youth, he still felt he should be more cautious and cherish his time.

However, the idea of becoming a star seemed unlikely to appear in his trial-and-error phase, both now and in the future.

Even in dreams, the psychological shadow cast by Bai Ruan and his star-studded friends and seniors was real.

“You’re not as good-looking as him,” Xie Duzhi stated factually, almost casually. “You take after mom more.”

Mrs. Xie was famously beautiful in her youth.

Undeniably, Bai Ruan was quite handsome, with delicate features and an understanding of how to dress to highlight his advantages. However, he was the type that might seem beautiful at first glance but would grow tiresome the deeper one looked, like thick cream.

Li Heng resembled Mrs. Xie more, with only a hint of his father’s features evident in the curve of his eyes. He had a naturally calm and gentle demeanor, akin to a jade disc with a restrained luster—if one noticed, it would be hard to look away.

It was different from trying too hard to fit in.

Thus, when he recalled the old stories about adoption, he felt a sense of the genuine amidst the superficial.

“There are many good-looking people out there,” Xie Duzhi said, not entirely at ease. “Principal Gu’s grandson is also quite handsome.”

Though he criticized Gu Mingyue for showing off excessively, like a peacock spreading its feathers, he wouldn’t deny the other’s strengths.

“…Huh?” Li Heng blinked in surprise, then nodded. “I think he’s quite cute.”

He had that clever and lively kind of cuteness.

“Don’t become friends with someone just because they’re good-looking,” Xie Duzhi continued.

In front of his younger brother, he didn’t use the word “superficial”; instead, he gave a warning. “Friends made solely based on looks won’t last long.”

Even Xie Sizhi wouldn’t only make friends based on appearances.

He had to admit that he was worried Bai Ruan might come looking for Li Heng, after all, he was smart and likely had some guesses about the circumstances surrounding his adoption.

Whether out of resentment or a desire to establish that connection for personal gain, Li Heng was undoubtedly the most approachable and manipulable person in the family.

A precaution was necessary.

Even though Xie Duzhi was emphasizing the importance of careful friendship choices seriously, Li Heng couldn’t help but want to laugh.

He exerted considerable effort to appear genuinely attentive instead of daydreaming—but he felt it wasn’t entirely his fault.

Xie Duzhi had just looked too much like a teacher emphasizing the importance of sincerity in friendship to a class of elementary school students.

He wasn’t a child anymore.

Just as he was about to emphasize that he was well aware of this and had no intention of befriending Bai Ruan, he noticed a slight movement from the backpack resting on the other side of the sofa since they entered the room, producing a faint sound.

Xie Duzhi reacted quicker than he did, lifting the backpack, unzipping it, and pulling out what was inside.

There couldn’t possibly be any rodents or such creatures in the house; ruling out everything else, there was only one possible answer left.

It was the cat they had brought back that day.

It was likely that Li Heng had sneaked it in while packing.

With an annoyed, low, and peculiar “harr” sound, a brown-and-white figure shot out from the backpack and darted under the living room sofa.

Xie Duzhi stood still, still holding the backpack.

He glanced down at the marks on the back of his hand, which were clearly from the effort he had used to extract it, and instinctively turned away, hiding his left hand behind him.

“I’ll call Uncle Fu to come pick it up,” he said. “The window is closed; the cat won’t be able to get out.”

However, Li Heng had noticed that seemingly casual little movement of his.